


Dodders

by Snowish



Series: Ask-Cagneycarnation Stuff [2]
Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, more at 11, this just in: local asshole flower not as much of an asshole as one might think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 12:26:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13100076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowish/pseuds/Snowish
Summary: Heeeyyyy so here's another thing from my Cagney ask blog, BUT! BUT-BUT-BUT!This was co-written by a friend of mine! Lumpy! We were doing an RP and decided 'hey, why not share this on Ao3?'SO HERE IT IS! I'll be dividing it into chapters, but posting it all in one go, so stay tuned!This has been edited quite a bit so it makes more sense reading it here, but this was originally a tumblr RP. So we apologize if there are any funky parts or anything! (I tried my best to get the most jarring.)CHECK OUT LUMPY'S BLOG, YO: http://the-rootpxck.tumblr.comAnd if you want to read the thread in its original painful glory: http://ask-cagneycarnation.tumblr.com/tagged/the-rootpxck/chronoThat's all for now! See ya!





	1. Fight on the Farm

**Author's Note:**

> Small things to note: Cagney has nicknames for each of the Root Pack, and Lumpy has given Weepy and Psycarrot 'real' names, ie the names in-game are more or less nicknames, too.
> 
> Cagney refers to them as Sniffles (Weepy), Upchuck (Moe), and Beta (Psycarrot)  
> While their real names are Oscar (Weepy) and Carrie (Psycarrot).
> 
> Be sure to keep that in mind as you read!!

It was just another normal day on the Root Pack’s farm. The veggies were doing their usual chores, and everything seemed to be fine… At least, until Cagney showed up.

The flower hopped over the fence, smirking as he made his way to Psycarrot, the only one working in that area of the fields.

"Oh hey there, Beta! Almost didn't recognize ya without that freaky third eye of yers open. Hey, think ya can tell me if I'll be able to kick a certain carrot in the roots sometime soon?" He snickered.

 

“Well look who’s decided to rear his ugly mug back in our farm land! Didya come ‘ere lookin’ for a scrap or to jus’ talk trash?” Psycarrot shot back, looking up from his work.

“Aw, it’s like ya don’t even remember me! Guess spendin’ too much time in the future makes ya lose some of the past, huh? Of course I wanna tussle! Why else would I bother hangin’ ‘round this dump?” Cagney said, feigning a wounded expression. It was pretty obvious that he wasn’t sincere about it, thought.

“Course I couldn’t recognize ya! Have ya looked at a mirror lately? I’ve seen prettier lookin’ bug-eyed Betties, than you, Carnation!” He raised ane of his eyebrows as he looked Cagney over, taking note of the flower’s disheveled appearance. 

Cagney’s petals were nothing but scraps. What remained was singed beyond belief, and he had many ashy marks over his body.   
  
Psycarrot, however, simply raised his fists. He figured Cagney was fine if he was up and about--even looking the way he was.   
  
“Well then, put ‘em up, ya sap!”

 

“It’ll be my pleasure!”   
  
Cagney raised his arms as well, but not with closed fists, like Psycarrot had. Instead he flashed a grin, then jabbed at the ground, sending up clods of dirt towards the carrot’s face.

_ A direct hit! _ Brushing the dirt off his face, Psycarrot readied himself for a counter attack. With the aid of his powers, Psycarrot lifted up clumps of soil from the ground, and sent them flying towards the flower’s face in retaliation.   
  
“Hah, dirty! I geddit! ‘Cause soil!” He cackled.

**_PAFF!_ ** That hit almost knocked Cagney right out of the ground. Luckily he was flexible, so the most it did was bend him over backwards. Didn’t stop him from catching a few clods in his mouth, however.   
  
“Blegh, watch where ya aim those things, three-eyes! I don’t want dirt fer lunch!” He managed, spitting out a bit as he righted himself.   
  
He transitioned smoothly into the next attack, however, bringing up a large thorny vine to carve into the ground, sending even more dirt than before into the air.

The dirt that was shot upwards piled down on the carrot, burying him underneath clumps of earth and leaving only the leaf atop his head poking out. Grumbling, Psycarrot burrowed himself into the ground and seconds later, popped back out with an even bigger pile of dirt, just hovering above the carrot.

“But I insist, Cags! Our soil is of the highest quality! It’s good for ya!”

The huge ball of dirt levitated for a moment, making its way towards the fiery flower, and then dropped on top of him. 

Cagney vanished under the rain of dirt, barely having time to even close his eyes. When the dust had settled, all that remained was the pile that had fell on top of him.

Eerily quiet seconds ticked by as the mound remained still, showing no signs of Cagney surfacing. No shift of soil, no muffled growls… It was absolutely still and silent.

 

Psycarrot felt pretty smug about that giant dirtball, but as he waited for his rival to resurface from the pile of dirt that he buried him under, he began to worry. About a minute had passed and there was still no sign of Cagney. The mound of soil remained lifeless and unmoving.

“C-Cags…?” He called out, hoping for a response. “Ya still kickin’ in there, ya sap?”

But just as he was about to approach the mound and start digging for the flower, he popped out of the pile, looking very much angry and disheveled, but alive at least. Aside from his enraged expression, he definitely looked like he took the worst of that attack. Dirt smudges now joined the ashy stains, and what was left of his petals were crumpled and limp.

The carrot let out an internal sigh of relief. God, he thought he’d killed him for sure.

“OH, NOW YER JUS’ ASKIN’ FER IT, YA–” Cagney started, but was interrupted by a coughing fit. Great, first he had to go and inhale a bunch of smoke, now he could add dirt to the list of things that probably shouldn’t have entered his lungs.

“You’re back! For second there I thought you were pushin’ up daisies! So, ya up for a round two?” Psycarrot asked, but then paused when Cagney began coughing.

“Awww, did ya actually care about me for a second there?” Cagney taunted, not too swayed by Psycarrot’s momentary concern. “It’ll take more than that t’ snuff me out, so let’s keep goin’!”

“’Course I care ‘bout ya! D’ya have any idea what’d Moe would do ta me if I did end up killin’ ya? I’d be a steamed carrot!” Psycarrot replied.

More vines appeared from the ground, bearing Cagney’s signature thorns. He looked ready to send them flying at the carrot, rather than just shovel up more dirt, but they suddenly sagged, falling limp to the ground as Cagney erupted into another bout of coughing.

“Dammit! Jus’… Jus’ give me a moment to catch my friggin’ breath!” He wheezed. He was starting to tremble a little bit, but it was clear he wasn’t going to act like some pansy in front of the other plant.

As more vines burst out of the ground, Psycarrot had shoveled his hands into the soil ready and eager to throw more at the flower, but gave the flower some time to catch his breath. He might have overdid a bit on the soil there. 

As he saw the other tremble, the carrot turned lax, and his expression softened. He was concerned.

“Cags, if yer not doing so good, I don’t wanna fight.” Psycarrot managed, sounding a bit serious this time.

“Well then,” Cagney said as he finally regained composure. He looked up at the carrot, a mocking grin on his face.

 

_ “Yer loss.” _

And then the vines whipped forward. They didn’t seem to be aiming for anywhere in particular, just trying to get a good few scratches in with their thorns.

As the vines moved about, Cagney hauled himself out of the rest of the dirt, righting himself and replanting his roots. He seemed fine now (as fine as one could be in his situation), and was taking joy in the fact he had caught the carrot off-guard.

_ Why that --!  _

The carrot barely had any time to dodge the vines, and before he could even burrow himself to safety, a thorny vine had already nicked him good on his side making him wince. Boy was he a sap for falling for that. He narrowed his eyes at the flower.

“Cagney, ya stinker!” He hissed.

Focusing, Psycarrot uprooted a couple of carrots from a nearby patch, and sent them homing towards the flower at missile-like speeds. If the fire flower was going to play dirty, he might as well too. 

Oh, geez, Cagney hadn’t expected that.

When the first carrot struck him in the face, Cagney was pulled out of the ground from the force. He rolled backwards a few feet, kicking up dirt and spitting out curses.

“Oh, it is ON!” He snarled, sounding a bit more gleeful than he probably should have. His right eye seemed to be developing a bruise around it, but he didn’t care. 

Once he had righted himself, he coiled up, gathering strength to–

 

**_“YAAAAAH!”_ **

 

He leaped at Psycarrot, his stem extending to a comical length. It seemed he was done making use of vines or dirt–He just wanted to straight-up tussle.

The carrot wasn’t expecting the flower to suddenly lunge at him, and was easily tackled to the ground, knocking him off his roots and landing with a loud “Oof”.

“You just neva seem ta run outta tricks, don’t ya, Carnation? Well if it’s a tusslin’ you want, it’s a tusslin’ you’ll get! Put ‘em up!”

Though he’d prefer to fight with his brain than with his fists as strength wasn’t his best aspect, it didn’t mean the carrot could deliver a decent punch as he socked the flower directly on the nose.

_ Why did they always go for the nose? _

Cagney yelped and flinched back a little, covering it with one hand in case it started bleeding. It didn’t seem that was the case, but it still stung.

With a wild look, he raised he free hand and covered it in a large array of thorns. Fully set on inflicting as much damage as possible, he began to slam it down, aiming directly for one of Psycarrot’s eyes.

A shrill cry of pain echoed throughout the farm as Cagney forcefully brought down his thorny hand on one of the carrot’s eyes. A cry that would cause some heads to turn.

 

Moe, who was tending to a patch of vegetables, was one of those turned heads. He nearly dropped his watering can as he was startled by the sudden shriek that broke the farm’s usual peaceful quiet. Quickly setting it down, he rushed towards the farm’s entrance where the source of the scream came from.

Meanwhile, back at the farm’s entrance, Psycarrot had thrown the fiery flower off of him. He brought up a hand to cover the eye that flower had struck that was oozing dark orange-ish liquid.

As dangerous as Cagney was, his pride as the Root Pack’s self-proclaimed leader was at stake. He had to do something. Focusing again, using all his psychic might, he lifted the flower up ‘til he was slightly above ground. And with a simple flick of his hand, he sent Cagney flying towards a tree.

**_WHAM!_ **

Cagney hit the tree at full force, shaking the trunk and sending a small rain of loose leaves down to the ground. As he slid down to the ground, he gave out a low groan.

He attempted to get back up again, but the collision had sucked all the remaining energy out of him. He fell, limp, and simply stared into the open air, too frazzled to do much of anything.

It was just as well. He could see the form of ol’ Upchuck headed towards them. No doubt he was gonna put a stop to their brawl.

“Looks like fun n’ games are over, Beta…” He managed to mumble. It was going to hurt his pride, losing like this, but not any more than it had hitting the tree.

 

...It worked. It actually worked. Psycarrot never expected that it would, but damn. That was a first. The carrot puffed up his chest proudly, full of pride. But that feeling was short lived as he felt someone cuff him on the head. 

“‘Ey, what gives--Moe!”

Yes, Moe. He was looking at the carrot with a displeased expression, arms crossed.

“I saw the whole thing, Psy.” The potato said sternly.

The carrot put up his hands defensively. “Hey, he started it. I--”

“What in the goddamn happened to your  _ eye!? _ ”

The carrot hadn’t realized that he had removed his hand from his injured eye. _Whoops_. He pointed an accusatory finger at Cagney. 

Moe rubbed his temples.  _ Brilliant. Just  _ **_great._ **

“Psy, you get back inside and let Weepy take care of your eye. I’m gonna have a little talk with Carnation.” Moe instructed.

And so the carrot departed, but not before pausing and reaching up to scratch his third-eye--which had been terribly itchy lately. What’s up with that? 

 

Moe watched the other leave before approaching Cagney. He extended his hand to the flower.

“Need a hand?” He asked.

The flower looked warily at Moe’s hand for a moment, before taking hold of it and pulling himself up.

“We were jus’ havin’ a li’l fun, Upchuck, no need to rag on Beta like that.” He grumbled, apparently not too ashamed he had severely injured the other plant.

Cagney then groaned and held his head. Hitting the tree like that had not been good, and a headache was already starting to develop. Tallying up his injures he now had burns, lost petals, a black eye, sore nose, and a headache. Just great.

“What, ya gonna chew me out fer what I did?” He finally asked, referring to Psycarrot’s eye. It might have been a little brutal, but hey! It had been a while since Cagney had done something like that in a fight. It was kinda fun.

Moe furrowed his brow.  _ Fun? _ How was stabbing someone’s eye out any  **_fun?_ ** Had he every right to rag on the carrot. Especially after having thrown the flower that hard against a tree.

He put his hands to his sides.

“Obviously. I know you and Psy hate each others’ roots, but didya hafta to hit ‘im in the eye?”

 

Now this wasn’t the first time the two had heated scrap. Their rivalry goes way back then one would think, and they’d both come out with nicks and bruises, but this was a first.

“He hit me in the eye with one o’ his carrots!” Cagney retorted, pointed to the shiner he was now sporting. “I jus’ used what I had an–”

Hold on. Why  _ had _ he used his thorns like that? In the heat of the moment, he hadn’t really thought too much of it, but now… Now he didn’t know what to think That was just downright sadistic, is what it was.

“I dunno.” He answered flatly, staring directly at Moe. “Jus’ seemed like the best thing to do at the time.”

Yeah, just straight up admit you thought almost gouging somebody’s eye out was a good idea. That’ll earn you some brownie points.

“Listen, I guess I got a li’l too out of hand. After the fire, I’ve jus’… Been needin’ some distractions, is all.” He mumbled, suddenly shying away. “Got too caught up in th’ fight, and… Didn’t mean fer Beta to get that dinged up.”

He hit him with one of his carrots? Huh. Guess that’d explain why the carrots in the nearby carrot patch had gone missing. He was going to give their youngest an earful after this. But back to Cagney, the potato frowned at his response.

“So ya gouge his eye out? Cagney, you coulda blinded him, you -- **_THE BEST THING TO DO?_ ** ” He suddenly raised his voice. 

How was that the best thing to do? Honestly, he could have done something else. Moe’s hands balled into a fist. He’d chew out flower, he would, but decided against it. Instead, he took a deep breath, held it for few seconds, and let out a sigh. 

“Fine, fine, fine…” He muterred. “But if ya got no business ta be here, than ya better scram. Unless ya want Weepy patch ya up.” He was willing to let the flower stay for that at least.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll make myself scarce.” Cagney mumbled in response, having no desire whatsoever to be tended to by the onion.

 

He turned around to walk away, but stopped for a moment. Glancing back at Moe, his face now showed something not often seen on the flower–Shame.

“Tell Beta I’m… sorry fer what happened, ‘kay?” He said softly, almost impossible to catch even in the otherwise quiet field.

Before Moe could say anything in response, Cagney turned back, hobbling away. He seemed to be wobbling a bit, still stunned from hitting the tree, but otherwise stood up tall.

Moe couldn’t quite hear what the flower said, but he could have sworn he saw him mouthed “I’m sorry”. Cagney, out of all people, was apologizing? Strange as it was for the potato, Moe made sure that he’d get his apology across.   
  


 

Meanwhile, Psycarrot was having his eye tended to by the Root Pack’s tenderly elder, Weepy. As his eye was being bandaged, occasionally, the carrot would reach up to scratch his third-eye.

“Hey, what’s with ya itchin’ your eye?” Weepy asked.

The carrot shrugged. 

“I dunno. Could just be a bad case of the sore eyes.”

Again, the carrot reached up to scratch his eye, but then his hand was lightly slapped away by the onion.

“Quit touchin’ Psy. It ain’t gonna get better if ya keep scratchin’ it. Tell ya what, I’ll go get ya some eye drops ta relieve the itch, m’kay?”

_ “Fine. As long as it stops the itchin’…” _


	2. Where's Carrie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short one here!

The itch--it’s gotten worse.

Earlier this morning, he could resist the urge to scratch his eye, no problem. But now, it was barely tolerable. Even after receiving an earful from Moe telling him specifically not to scratch it, the carrot still yearned to. Oh-so-badly did he want to. Anything to relieve him; because the itch was starting to become a nuisance with every passing moment that it was left unscratched. It made it hard for the carrot to focus on watering the patch he was tending to, it was.

And eventually, he caved in to his impulses. Every so often he would reach up to rub his third-eye with the palm of his hand. 

But no matter how many times he’d reach up to scratch his eye, no relief came from it. Rather, it only made him want to scratch it more. With him continuously  scratching his eye, it’d began to turn reddish and watery. And it hurt. But he just couldn’t stop himself. The itch was that bad.

 

He let out a huff as he reached up again to relieve his eye of the itch, but froze as felt something fiber-y and vine-like crawl its way out of his psychic eye and surround its corners. He gently brushed his his fingers along the mysterious vine-like objects.

_ Oh no. No, no,  _ **_no._ **

Slowly and carefully, Psycarrot plucked out of one the vines, and grimaced at what he saw. Had he had any blood, then right now at that moment, it’d be running cold.

He was infected.

But it wasn’t just that. The plant that he had in his hand… he recognizes it. With its thin leafless stem and its cream-colored flowers, it was a plant that equally evoked fear among the members Root Pack, him included. 

_ The dodder. _

* * *

 

The farm was silent the whole day.

Without Psycarrot around, the place had fallen to an eerie dead silence that filled the air with a thick air of unease. There were no sounds, save for the chirping of crickets, Moe’s light snoring that slightly shook the earth, and Weepy’s restless worried shuffling.

It’s late. Why hasn’t he come back home yet?  Now, Psycarrot had stayed out late before; more than once, but he’s never been out this late before.

From time to time, the onion would poke his way out of the soil to check for any signs of the young carrot, only to burrow back when he found none. Rinse and repeat. 

He was just so worried about the carrot. What if something terrible had happened him? What if    His thoughts were running wild with panic.

And it didn’t ease him how there was this… disease that had been going around all of Inkwell Isle that was infecting its inhabitants. What was it called again? Cadaver’s Bloom? Well, whatever it was, it sounded unsavory. 

And he hoped that… he hoped that the virus hadn’t caught on to their youngest.

“Oh Carrie… please stay safe…”

And so the hours passed, and soon enough, it was dawn. The sky was tinted a soft pink as the sun begun to rise. The onion had barely slept last night as he had spent most of it worrying about Psycarrot.

* * *

 

That’s it. They were convinced. Something had definitely happened to their youngest. He didn’t come back yesterday, and he still wasn’t back today. They had to do something. They had to look for him.

While they didn’t want to leave the farm unattended to, they had to. Their youngest potentially be in some grave danger. And they’ll start by asking their nearby neighbors first.


	3. Let Me Help You

"C-Cagney? Mr. Carnation? Are you there?" Weepy called out, looking carefully around the flowerbed. He wasn’t sure where Cagney frequented, but this seemed as good a place as any.

“Hm?” 

The carnation poked his head out from behind a nearby tree, a little surprised to see the onion so far from the farm.

“Oh, it’s jus’ you, Sniffles. The heck do you want? Come to follow up on Upchuck’s scolding?”

Weepy shook his head.

“Nuh-uh. I came here ta ask you if you knew where Psycarrot went. Or if ya saw him at all.”

Weepy started wringing his hands together nervously.

“Because ya see, he… he hasn’t came back yet.”

 

“Hasn’t come back?” Cagney echoed, eyes widening slightly.

Well that was curious. He had never heard of any of the Root Pack not going back to the farm after a while.

“Well, whaddya want me to do about it? I’m not exactly best buds with the guy, and I haven’t seen ‘im since our fight!”

“Y-you haven’t? Oh dear…”

Weepy cupped a hand to his cheek. Where could he have run off to? But even if the flower didn’t know where their youngest’s whereabouts were, they needed all the help they could get.

“Um, Cagney? If it’s not too much ta ask for, do ya think you could help me n’ Moe look for ‘im?”

Cagney blinked, a bit surprised at the request. After all, the last time he had been with Psycarrot, he had almost made it so he had the normal number of eyes.

“ _What makes ya think I_ –I mean… I suppose? But I dunno how much help I’d be. Wouldn’t even know where to start, to begin with! ‘nless you think you can point me in a direction or whatever.”

 

See, that was the problem. Weepy didn’t know where to start looking for the carrot. He left no note, no hint whatsoever about where he was heading. He just up and left. 

“Well… I’m not sure where to start lookin’. He could be anywhere on the Isle, really. Ya know, with his fortune tellin’ business. Maybe try searchin’ the first Isle?” The onion suggested.

Well, it was a start, though maybe not a great one. After all, Cagney did know the first isle pretty well by now.

“Hm, alright. Tell ya what: I’ll keep my eyes peeled, and if I happen to run into ‘im, I’ll let ya know. Probably won’t go too terribly out of my way to search, though.” Cagney answered, looking away.

That was a bit of a lie. Cagney was pretty curious as to why Beta would do something like this, and was a little determined to ask the carrot himself.

“Y-you will? Aw, thanks a bunch Cagney!”

It filled the Weepy with hope and optimism seeing that even Cagney, Psycarrot’s rival, was willing to help them look for him. Even though he showed little enthusiasm about helping them find their youngest, their aid was very much appreciated by the onion.

With that being settled, Weepy left, presumably to go and ask other nearby residents if they’ve seen the carrot. 

 

Once Weepy was out of sight, Cagney began to think. Why oh why wasn’t the carrot around? Come to think of it, why hadn’t he been spotted yet? It’s not like a giant carrot was exactly inconspicuous, you know.

“Only thing I can think of,” Cagney mumbled to himself, “’s maybe he doesn’t wanna be foun–”

Oh.  _ That was it, wasn’t it. _

Well, that narrowed places to look down a lot. After all, Cagney had been in the same position a few years ago, trying to avoid the Devil or his lackeys.

“Beta, what the hell didya get yerself into?” He mumbled under his breath, starting to walk. 

He would scope out the most secluded spots on the isle, hopefully finding Psycarrot in one of them. And if not… Well, he wasn’t sure what to do after that. So he hoped Psycarrot would indeed show up.

* * *

 

It took him the better part of the day, but Cagney was able to check out all of the quietest locations he knew around the isle. And in all of them, he found no indication of the carrot anywhere.

That was, until he came across a sparse field.

There was almost barely any vegetation, except for a few patches of dried grass and a mass of stringy vines with cream-colored flowers that contrasted with how dead the place was.

But underneath those thick heap of vines, was something as equally as eye-catching as those flowers. Something large. Something bright. 

Something orange.

…It wasn’t just a thick heap of vines sprouting out of the ground. Those vines were coiled around something. And that something would have to be living for it to be growing in a field as dead as this.

 

Cagney’s eyes widened at the state of the field, having never seen anything like this before. The fact the field seemed so dead, but with a few living blooms… It made him very uneasy.

Then he caught sight of the orange shape, and he couldn’t help but give out a gasp. 

“Beta?” He managed, his voice little more than a croak. This wasn’t right. Something was very wrong. Seeing Psycarrot, or however much he could make of him amidst the coils of these strange vines, did not make Cagney feel good about finding him.

What has he gotten himself into, indeed.

 

“C-Carnation…?” Psycarrot’s eyes widened as he saw the flower. 

No.  _ No no no.  _ He wasn’t supposed to be here.  _ Why was he here?! _ He thought this area was secluded. No one else was supposed to find him. The flower especially.

As tightly wound those vines were around the carrot, he could still move, but sparingly. He shuffled away from him. He couldn’t let him come close. Or else he’ll…

But with all those vines wrapped around him, it made it hard for the carrot to distance himself from Cagney. At this point he was struggling to move.

It was rather painful to watch.

“Beta, you…” Cagney managed, before heaving another sigh, this time out of frustration. 

With a little bit of focus, he was able to draw a couple of vines from the ground, this time completely covered in thorns. As intimidating as they may have been, they approached the vine clump carefully, trying to hook some of the strands on their thorns and cut through. While this was going on, Cagney took a few more steps towards Psycarrot.

“The heck you doin’ all the way out here, makin’ Sniffles and Upchuck worry? They had to come and enlist my help t’ find ya, and here ya are covered in whatever this crap is!”

His brief moment of fear and relief had subsided, and now he was being his usual grumpy self.

With some of the dodder vines cleared out, the flower could now clearly see the carrot’s face. There was a large scar that dragged down on his left eye, obviously from that fight they had days ago.

“Whaddya think, Needlenose? I’m tryin’ ta get away from ‘em! A-and you should too, unless ya wanna get the dodders!” Psycarrot shot back.

There was no point running. The flower was a lot more mobile than he was in this situation. With his third-eye, he tried to focus on keeping Cagney in place. He couldn’t let him come near him.

Exerting all this energy to just keep the flower place… not a very good idea when you were tired yourself.

 

Cagney rolled his eyes, ignoring the carrot’s pleas for him to go away. 

“Dodders? ‘S that what this is?” He asked, vaguely recalling he had heard of them once before in his lifetime. It was only ever the name, though, so he wasn’t familiar with the fearful stigma surrounding them.

He paused a bit upon noticing the scar, not exactly too proud of the fact he had left a mark. Boy, there was a lot to unpack here.

“Never heard of ‘em, and frankly I don’t care,” He continued, trying to push against the carrot’s psychic abilities a bit. Even his vines were caught up in it, so he couldn’t do any more trimming, unfortunately. “Why do these wimpy little things got you in such a big tizzy, anyway? Jus’ yank ‘em off!”

“Yank ‘em off? Carnation, these are  _ dodders! _ Ya don’t jus’ yank ‘em off n’ expect ‘em to… go away…”

Psycarrot was starting to get tired, holding the flower in place. He’s never held anything larger than a carrot for this long. But he had to keep him in place. At least until he could convince him to leave.

“Please, Cags… I’m bein’ serious about this. Ya gotta leave.” 

 

Alright,  _ now _ Cagney was starting to get pissed. How dare Psycarrot act like this? He didn’t have the right to, not when Cagney was the worst off of the two.

“And leave you here to rot? Not freakin’ likely! The Beta I know wouldn’t let some lousy snake of a weed mess with ‘im like this!” With a bit of effort, he managed to push forward those last few steps, reaching out and grabbing Psycarrot by the wrist.

“I’m only gonna say this once, so you’d better goddamn listen: I don’t care what this crap does t’ me. Better I keel over than you, ‘cause at least some people will be upset when yer gone. You got Sniffles and Upchuck, but me? I got nobody. I’m already a dead plant walkin’ so just LET ME  _ FUCKING _ HELP YOU, FOR ROOTS’ SAKE!”

He was breathing heavily after that small monologue. He had already survived a blaze, what were a few dodders going to do that would be any worse than that? It’s not like he was desperate to… 

_ Perhaps it was best not to think about that right now. _

 

Psycarrot winced as he listened to the flower’s monologue. Like a big slap to the face, it hurt. He wasn’t expecting Cagney, of all people, to be letting out this much. He had always kept to himself, and hearing all of this come out of the fiery flower’s mouth…

Stung just as much as these dodders that were planting their roots inside of him.

With that final step of Cagney’s, Psycarrot released his hold on the flower. Having used all his energy to keep Cagney in place, he fell over, exhausted.

And indeed Cagney was right. He wouldn’t. If these dodders were just “some lousy snake of weeds”. Except they weren’t. They were dodders.

“Carnation, I… I really appreciate your concern, but… there’s really nothin’ you can do ‘bout these dodders.”

He lowered his head in defeat, his leaf sagging. 

“If there was, then I wouldn’t have ran away, ya know? Bein’ the highly esteemed ‘leader’ of the Root Pack n’ all.”

“Without sayin’ anything to Sniffles and Upchuck? You’re an idiot. They’re worried sick about you, yanno! The least you could do is tell ‘em you’re gonna be gone for a bit!” Cagney snapped.

He gave a strong tug to the carrot’s arm, not really caring about being gentle. 

“Come on,” He snarled. “Once I clear the worst of this stuff we’re headin’ back to the farm so you can tell them what the hell is wrong with you.”

And so, the thorny vines proceeded to try and clear away more of the dodders. An air of concentration never seen before came from Cagney, as if he were actually focusing so that he wouldn’t accidentally scratch Psycarrot.

 

It surprised Psycarrot, seeing how gentle and careful Cagney was with removing the dodders when just a few days ago he had nearly gouged his eye out. 

“You’re jus’ like a potato, ya know that, Carnation? All brown n’ ugly on the outside, but all fluff n’ mush on the inside. Look at ya, gettin’ all worked up ova me of all folks. What’s next? You blubberin’ ova me?”

He chuckled.  It was strange. He’s never seen the flower be genuinely concerned about anyone, him, especially.

“I’M NOT–I’m just–You’re one of the few assholes I tolerate on this rock of an island!  _ Who ELSE am I gonna tussle with if you just– _ ” Cagney insisted.

But Psycarrot just pulled his arm back, and burrowed himself further into the soil.

“…You tell ‘em. I ain’t goin’.”

Anger the likes of which Cagney had never experienced before suddenly flooded him. Why was Psycarrot being so  **STUBBORN** ? Didn’t he get that if there was any amount of a fighting chance, you should take it and run?

_ Okay. Let’s try a different method,  _ he thought.

“Fine. I will. I’ll go back and tell ‘em ol’ Beta is nothing but a coward. I’ll tell ‘em you would rather turn your back on them and hide away, that you can’t accept somebody’s attempts to help you. I’LL TELL THEM THAT OL’ BETA IS A LILY-LIVERED SEEDLING WHO WOULD RATHER GIVE UP AND ROT THAN LET THE PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT HIM KNOW THERE’S A FUCKING PROBLEM!”

Cagney was too worked up to realize it, but he was starting to cry a little. Perhaps his words weren’t just meant for Psycarrot.

Then he turned to walk away.

 

“…Fine. Tell ‘em then. I ain’t like you’re wrong. I won’t stop you.” Psycarrot called after the flower.

Much like his roots, his decision was firm. He was going to stay here, and nothing there was nothing the Cagney could do to convince him to leave. Psycarrot stayed buried underneath the soil till the flower was gone. 

Suddenly, he felt drained. These dodders were starting to take their toll on the carrot. 


	4. Cowards

Cagney took his time going back to the farm. He didn’t want Weepy or Moe to see how worked up he had gotten. 

While he wasn’t too surprised Psycarrot hadn’t budged, it still ticked him off. Reminded him of himself–not that he would ever admit it.

As Cagney came into view, he was approached by an anxious Weepy. Moe, however; was nowhere to be seen. Probably still out there looking for the carrot.

“You’re back! Did you find ‘im?” Weepy asked hopefully.

“Found ‘im,” He replied when he finally reached the onion. “But yer not gonna like what I have to say.”

He began to explain how he had found Psycarrot and his attempts to bring him back–though maybe without mentioning calling him a ‘coward.’    
  


Hearing flower mention that he had found Psycarrot brought him relief, but the feeling only lasted for a moment as he told the onion more about his findings. Silently, he listened.

And when the flower was finished explaining, Weepy, overwhelmed by grief, was on the verge of bursting into tears.

This was terrible. What was… what was he going to tell Moe when he got back?

 

“So I guess that’s it,” Cagney mumbled with a shrug. “You asked me to help find him and I did. Never said anything ‘bout bringing him back, though.”   
  


“So that’s why he neva came back… he-he’s sick with the dodders…” 

“The heck even are the dodders?” Cagney asked, not changing his frustrated expression. “I mean, I got the idea they were bad, but to what extent? The way Beta was makin’ it sound, they seem pretty fatal, huh?”

And why couldn’t just clearing them away solve the problem? He asked himself. That seemed like the most obvious solution, but with Beta’s response…

“Any plans on what to do next?” He continued. “Beta’s pretty adamant that he can’t be helped.”

“Y-you… you don’t what dodders are?” Weepy asked, a bit derailed by the flower’s lack of insight.

The onion assumed he would. Considering how dangerous the little things were. He sighed. Looks like he had some teaching to do.

Wiping his tears away, Weepy took a moment to collect himself before explaining to him what the parasitic plants were. 

They were pretty dangerous, alright. No safe way of removing them, and they would sap life from their host. Eventually the host would perish from a lack of energy or the elements.

As Weepy explained dodders, Cagney gained a look of surprise for once. Well, that wasn’t quite what he was expecting, but…

When he was finished, Weepy could only answer Cagney’s second question with a defeated shrug of his shoulders. 

 

“I… I dunno, Cags. We have options, but… you probably won’t like ‘em.”

“Is one of those options figuring out how to manage them?” The flower suggested. “Like ya said, they don’t kill, so couldn’t we…”

He then scowled.

“If they won’t kill ‘em, then he had no damn business acting that dramatic. Rude as hell, too, with how stubborn he was being. But what other options do we have, and why won’t I like ‘em?” He finished, squinting at Weepy.

“W-well… managing ‘em could buy ‘im some time, but… that’s it.” Weepy said softly.

He started wringing his hands together. Well, assuming that Cagney cared about Psycarrot… then he definitely wasn’t going to like what he was about to tell him. 

 

Weepy excused himself, leaving to go grab something from the tool shed. He returned a moment later with an ominous-looking spray bottle filled with potent weedkiller in his hand. He then held it out for the flower to take.

Labeled on its front was a picture of a skull and crossbones, with something written in bold, red letters. 

“…Dodders don’t usually kill, but they can spread, Cagney. Psycarrot neva came back for that reason. And even if they don’t kill ‘im… then somethin’ else will.”

The onion was trying his best not to tear up while handing him the weedkiller he was, but… there wasn’t much they could for their youngest.  

“Wha-What the… Hell…” Cagney said as he took the bottle. His hand shook visibly as he read it. When he realized what Weepy was suggesting, he looked up at the onion, an expression so contorted it was hard to make out just what he was trying to convey.

“Are you tryin’ t’ say’ you’d rather just off ‘im right now? Some sorta  _ mercy killin’ _ ?”

Weepy didn’t reply, wich only made Cagney’s hand shake more.

 

_ “NO. **NAW,** WE AIN’T DOIN’ THAT! THAT MAKES YOU TWO EVEN BIGGER COWARDS THAN HIM.” _

 

He tossed the bottle to the ground, letting it thump and roll a few feet away.

“YER HIS FAMILY, YOU SHOULD HAVE A LITTLE MORE HOPE FER ‘IM, SNIFFLES. YER NOT EVEN GONNA CARE ENOUGH TO TRY SOME OTHER WAY?  IF I HAVE T’ DO IT MYSELF, I WILL, BUT I’M GONNA MAKE SURE OL’ BETA GETS OUTTA THIS.”

The flower was right. Psycarrot was family, but… what other way was there other this? 

Weepy went off to pick up the bottle of weedkiller from the ground. But he didn’t try giving it to Cagney. Not yet. 

“Y-you… you don’t get it. This ain’t the first time we’ve lost someone t’ dodders.”

While he was a blubbering mess, he tried his best to explain.

“I’ve seen it before. We tried everythin’ we could do t’ save ‘er. But… our everythin’ just wasn’t enough…”

He approached the flower and held out his hand again in hopes he would take the potent weedkiller.

“You don’t gotta use it right away, but in case it has t’ come to that… please. Jus’ take it.”

 

“NO.  _ N-NO,  _ **_NO!_ ** ”

Cagney smacked the bottle from Weepy’s hand, sending it farther this time. Thorns had sprouted down his arms as he raised his voice. He was getting angrier.

“I’m gonna sound like a goddamned hypocrite, but even if he says, and even if YOU say we need to give up,  _ I AIN’T GONNA LET THAT HAPPEN.   _ Beta’s a godamned thorn in my side (ignore the freakin’ pun), sure, and I can’t believe I’m gonna fucking say this, but he’s the closest thing I got to a friend. LIKE HELL I’M GONNA LOSE HIM TO SOME BULLSHIT LIKE THIS.”

He took a deep breath, still shaking from earlier.

“If yer so quick to give up on him, then… Then… I’ll handle everything myself. Don’t bother showin’ up.”

 

Before Weepy could stop him, he turned around and began to run back the way he had come. Back in the direction of Psycarrot. 

He didn’t notice, but the remains of his petals were starting to smoke a little, faint embers glowing at their frayed edges.

Weepy wanted to alert Cagney of the condition of his petals, but the flower had already left, running off to who knows where.

Sighing, Weepy went to look for the weedkiller that Cagney had sent flying out of his hand earlier. He might not need it now, but soon he’ll realize that there was nothing he could do for their youngest.


	5. Where there's smoke...

Meanwhile, in the same sparse field, lay a dodder-covered Psycarrot. Having most of his nutrients drained, he was now limp and had apparently fallen over.

He was also eerily still. He showed no signs of reaction or movement when the flower stepped into the field.

He seemed… dead.

“Beta, you piece of shit, get up!”

Cagney was gasping from having run all the way over, but he wasted no time trying to tend to Psycarrot. He brought some more thorny vines up to clear the dodders, reaching for Psycarrot’s hand and trying to pull him up.

“Your family’s already given up on you–They gave me a bottle of  _ weedkiller _ , Beta! You need to get up and prove to them you can fight this! Please!”

 

He wasn’t quick to realize it, but tears had started to form in Cagney’s eyes.

“I can’t believe I’m even saying something like this, but if you kick the bucket now, what does it say about me? I should be the one on death’s door right now! You don’t deserve this, because you’re so much better than me!”

He let go of Psycarrot, burying his face in his hands and starting to tremble.

“P-Please, jus’… Jus’ say something. Say something, Be-…  _ Carrie _ .”

He was crying full-force now, but just because of what was happening to Psycarrot. He wasn’t just sad. He was frustrated. He was angry. Mostly at himself.

And that frustration began to fuel the embers on the scraps of his petals. Their smoke grew thicker, and the embers threatened to jump and land on something else around them.

About a good minute had passed since Cagney tried to rouse Psycarrot awake. He wouldn’t budge. 

Not even when he called him by his real name, he didn’t stir. And when people called him by that name, they meant something. Normally, he’d turn his head and attention to them, but here he was. 

As flat and as dead the soil beneath their roots. 

One would try to will themselves that this wasn’t happening -- that this was all just some horrible nightmare, but it wasn’t. This was all very real.

 

The flower had just lost his rival, and presumably only friend.

 

“ _ No, no, nonononono this can’t– _ ” Cagney managed before a sob choked him out. 

Psycarrot couldn’t be gone! Cagney was only gone for–He HAD to get up!

But despite every part of Cagney’s body screaming at him to do something, he couldn’t bring himself to. Tears were running down his nose, his face was flush, his vision was blurry.

“Not again… Every time I try to fix things… I lose it all…”

He slumped to the ground, trying to stifle himself in the dirt. Still oblivious to the fact his petals were lit, he failed to notice when a few stray sparks caught on the nearby grass.

Unbeknownst to the flower, the sparks had kindled a small flame that was steadily growing. As the fire grew, smoke began to emanate from it as it fed off from the dry patch of grass, slowly spreading. And as it spread, by an unfortunate chance, a strong breeze suddenly swept over the field causing embers to scatter.

But while all of this was happening, by some unexpected miracle, a weak cough sounded from underneath the thick mass of dodders.

The heap of vines started to shuffle and so did the soil beneath it.

Then a familiar voice, though hoarse, called out.

 

“Cag… Cagney…?”

 

**_“CARRIE!”_ ** Cagney shouted once he heard Psycarrot’s voice. He lifted his head, his face still a mess of tears, to look at him.

He knew he shouldn’t feel relieved just yet, but at the same time he was so thankful the carrot was moving again.

“We need to get you out of here, so–” He began, but then froze. The crackling of the flames and the smell of the smoke had reached him. He turned to see fire, and clenched his fists.

“No, I… _ I did it again. _ C-Carrie, we really need to leave now, or we’re both–”

He tried reaching for Psycarrot’s hand again, but he was shaking too much. This shouldn’t be happening. Were they both going to die now? Right after Psycarrot had responded? Talk about a cruel twist of fate.

“Leave…? Cagney, what’s goin’ on? Why are ya cryin’?”

Having recently only come to, Carrie couldn’t properly register everything that was happening. He was sluggish, and it took him about a few good seconds to realize that the land around them was on fire.

His eyes widened, and instantly he forced himself to get up. With whatever ounce of energy he had left, he tried to heave himself up, but as he was half-way, he felt all his strength leave him and he fell back down to ground with a thud.

“C-Cags, I… I can’t… t-the dodders, they…”

They were tightly wound around the carrot. In a strangling kind of fashion that kept the carrot from moving.

 

“This ‘s my fault, I–Th’ reason I was so banged up back when we fought–I started a fire somehow and now I’ve gone and done it again–” Cagney said, too quick for him to even register.

He had to calm down. This wasn’t going to help either of them if he just started panicking. The flames didn’t seem to be too out of control yet, so if they found some way to leave soon, they could get out without too much damage.

“I.. I can try carrying you. With my vines. Y’ think that’d be enough?” He suddenly suggested.

Geez, Cagney was starting to wish he had brought Weepy along after all. The older vegetable could have probably extinguished everything with those damn tears of his.

“Just far enough to get outta this fire. I don’t think I got the strength for much more than that.”

_ Carry him? _ Carrie had doubts that the flower could him lift him off the ground, but they didn’t have much time nor options. The fire was getting bigger and if they didn’t leave immediately, then…

Carrie loosened his roots from the soil. He was heavy, but unrooting himself from soil might just make him a tad easier to carry. A tad.

“I think so. S-so… ya ready, Cagney?”

He turned to Cagney, doubtful. He was hesitant to charge into the flames, let alone go near them as they were progressively growing, but this was their only escape route.

 

Cagney took in a careful breath, trying to calm his tremors and gather his strength. Running around all day had not done his energy any favors, but he would try his best.

With as much effort as he could manage, he summoned his usual vines, sans their trademark thorns. They carefully snaked their way around Carrie and lifted him, rising over the flames.

Cagney followed them, albeit slowly, as he continued to focus. He managed to weave his way through the embers before they could close him off, and hurried upwind. That way, if the wind picked up again, the flames wouldn’t follow them.

Carrie stayed perfectly still as Cagney’s vines coiled themselves around him and hoisted him above the flames. He held his breath in suspense, scared that the vines would suddenly give in and drop him into the starving maw of the ever growing blaze below him.

Once they were a fair distance away, Cagney stumbled, and his vines shrunk away, dropping Carrie back to the ground. Cagney collapsed as well, gasping for air. 

“Geez, how much do ya weigh?” He managed, smirking a little. His brief moment of humor didn’t last, however, as he realized that was only one problem taken care of. Carrie still had the dodders, and neither of them had the energy to get back to the farm.

 

It wasn’t until they had distanced themselves from the flames that Carrie relaxed. He sighed, relieved that they had managed to escape unscathed. Well, mostly unscathed.

The tips of his leaves had been singed by embers, leaving behind small scorch marks. It stung, but besides that he was okay.

He promptly replanted his roots as soon as Cagney placed him back on the ground.

“Heh, well I didn’t win last year’s county fair prize for ‘heaviest carrot’  for nothin’, Carnation.” He snickered. “Jokes aside, you’s okay? No burns or anythin’? Other than the one’s you got, o’ course.”

“Fine,” Cagney grumbled back, trying to mask his pause. The flames had licked him a couple times, but it wasn’t anything major. Just a singe or two. He would deal with it later. “Won’t be running for a while, but… Fine.”

“You ready to let me help you now?” He asked, shifting the subject and darkening his tone. “We did jus’ get outta that blaze. But I mean, if yer still confident you can’t be helped, I’d gladly throw ya back in.”

His classic grumpy personality poked its way through, but not for long. Either he didn’t have the energy to keep it up, or he didn’t see the point in doing so. 

“Carrie, we need to get you somewhere safe, but… The farm… I dunno if that would be…” Cagney began with a sigh.

He wasn’t sure if Carrie had heard the part about the weedkiller he had mentioned earlier. If he were somehow able to bring Carrie back, there’s a chance Weepy would still decide to–

_ He didn’t want to think about that. _

 

Carrie considered refusing the flower’s aid at first, but then these dodders were starting to get awfully tight to a point they felt like they were choking him. Who could have known that dying by dodders would be this slow and agonizing?

“Sure.” He rasped. “I could use a bit o’ space to breathe.”

And it wasn’t like he could resist. They both were equally exhausted, but Carrie could barely muster the energy to stand or use his telekinetic powers. The dodders kept him from moving too, so… with reluctance, he accepted Cagney’s help.

He knew his brothers back at home were all worried sick about him, but…

“I already told ya, Carnation. I ain’t going back home. Not with these things on me. Speakin’ of home, I’m guessin’ Weepy’s already filled ya in on dodders?”

Cagney’s face twitched a bit. Yeah, Weepy sure did. He was still angry at the onion for suggesting what he did, and he clenched his fists upon recalling it.

“He wanted me t’ use weedkiller on ya, Carrie. Like you were  _ nothin _ ’. Didn’t even suggest a way you go could with dignity!”

Cagney did his best to stand up, still a little wobbly from spending so much energy. His expression was blank, but it was clear he was angry again.

“If yer not gonna go back to the farm, then… You could stick around with me.” He offered, looking away. “I can help trim those things and keep ‘em managed, and it’s a lot better than you just sitting in a field waiting to die. I know it’s not a cure, but…”

Why was he getting so worked up over what Weepy had suggested? Was it because it was reminding him of Lillian and Dracena? Family turning on family… Wasn’t too far off from friend turning on friend.

“It’s jus’ a suggestion.” He said quickly, snapping from his brief stupor. 

 

_ Weedkiller? Now why would they want to use weedkiller on him? Unless… Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? _ Carrie gazed sadly at the ground, curling up a little. He knew it. That’s why they wanted him gone.

He perked up in surprise at the flower’s offer. It wasn’t a bad offer, but considering what happened a few days ago in the farm… would it be such a good idea for them to be living together until they could find a cure for the dodders…?

He a took a long moment to assess the offer.

“It ain’t a bad deal, but…” He trailed off, looking away. “…Don’t cha hate me?”

While they’d often beat the daylights out of each other, he’d always thought of Cagney as a sort of… friend. 

“If ya do, then I’m really confused why ya didn’t just straight up ditch me back there.”

Cagney blinked at Carrie’s question, a bit surprised by it.

 

“Hate ya? Why would I–” Oh. Well. Constantly fighting with him and then almost stabbing his eye out would definitely leave that sort of impression on a person.

“I don’t hate you.” He clarified, shrinking into his shoulders a bit. “I didn’t mean t–I took it too far with that hit to yer eye, yeah. I was takin’ my frustration out in a bad way, is all… The fire I mentioned earlier… A lot happened during that night, and I’m still not really over it.

“If anything, I hate myself.” He finished in a low tone.

“You, on the other hand, are a saint compared t’ me. So there’s no way I’m just gonna stand by and let this happen t’ ya!”

He tried to sound a bit more enthusiastic, hating that he had dropped the mood, but let his slight grin falter. If Carrie pressed him, he probably wouldn’t mind relaying his history, but…

 

“I see… d’ya wanna talk about it?” Carrie suggested.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to be asking the flower about his personal matters, but…

“Could help ya get a lot outta your system.”

And besides, they were both exhausted. They were both going to be here a while. He wouldn’t mind listening to the flower talk about whatever was troubling him. It gave them something to do while they rest at least.

“I wouldn’t exactly call myself a ‘saint’, Carnation,” He continued. “I’ve done some pretty shady stuff in the past too. And I still do. So in a way, you n’ me ain’t so different!” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. 

“That why I said  _ compared _ to me, dingus,” Cagney shot back. “Ya may be a liar who swindles folks, but…”

He sighed and flopped down on the ground, directing his attention to the blaze in the distance.

“Ya ain’t ever considered murder, have ya?” He asked after a moment. 

“Once, but as a joke.” Carrie chuckled.

“Well I did. ‘S part of why I sold my soul.” Cagney said flatly.

Well, there it was. Might as well continue.

 

“Few years ago, I lived in Inkwell Isle Two with a couple o’ friends. Things were fine, but then… One of ‘em killed the other. I didn’t trust her reasons why, so I tried to bring ‘em back. Devil needed another soul in return, so… I tried to kill her. Didn’t work. She did end up dyin’, but by accident. Billy Goat said it didn’t count. So I ended up snatchin’ my contract and runnin’ here to Isle One.

“Friends came back a while ago. Ghosts. I got angry, and suddenly everything was on fire. First friend… First friend admitted to planning something. Next thing I knew, they were gone, and I was aware I had pretty much sold my soul for nothing. Both my friends are dead, it’s my fault… And I sold my soul just to try and get some damn peace of mind.”

He let out another sigh, this time in frustration.

“So, yeah, unless you also considered offin’ somebody close to ya, you’re a lot better than me. Why d’ya think I’ve been tryin’ so hard to make sure ya don’t croak? I’m the only one ‘round here who needs to keel over.”

 

There were no words from Carrie as he had listened to the flower tell his tale in silence, occasionally nodding his head. Everything suddenly made sense.

No wonder Cagney was mistrusting of others. No wonder he’d been so aggressive the other day. 

His own friends turned on him, one of which tried to kill him, and then they came back from the dead a few days ago and admitted to plotting something? That’s rough, buddy.

When Cagney had finished, Carrie wasn’t sure what to say at first. All he gave him was a look of pity. 

“I… I’m sorry it had ta go that way, Cagney.”

He’d offer him some words of comfort, but he wasn’t exactly the comforting type, Still, he’d try as he gave him a gentle pat on the back.

“Don’t need yer–” Cagney started, but paused. Snapping at Carrie like that wasn’t going to help anything, and it was just the same as what he had been doing for years: pushing people away. Perhaps he could make an exception for Carrie. For now.

“I manage. But it jus’ proves I ain’t anyone’s role model… Hard to believe I was actually a nice kid when I was younger. If ya told little me I’d be like this now… I would probably jus’ laugh and call ya crazy.”

He reached up to the spot where one of his petals would have been, forgetting they were singed scraps now. When his fingers met air, he grumbled, disappointed he couldn’t fall back on that old habit.

“Anyway, I ain’t in the mood for a big ol’ pity party right now. We need to get you moving. I can’t carry ya around forever, and if the flames don’t get us, the smoke sure will.” 

 

The air was starting to smell like the all-too-familiar scent of burnt grass. It made Cagney agitated as he covered his nose, not too proud of the fact he was the one who started it.

“I mean… Do ya think Upchuck will help us? He… He wasn’t at the farm when I checked in with Sniffles. Maybe if I go find ‘im, he’ll…”

“’Course he would! My brothers would neva leave me ta dry!” Carrie replied.

But just as he was about to speak, a strong breeze suddenly stirred up and blew billows of black smoke their way causing Carrie to go into coughing fit. Oh dear, he’s accidentally inhaled some of it.

“This… damned smoke…” He wheezed.

Once he’d recovered, he then turned his head towards the direction of the burning field. His expression turned grim as he saw the worst of their fears had come to realization. 

Not only had the fire grown in size   oh no, but thanks to that confounded wind that blew by earlier, it was now slowly headed their way. It had spread more embers apparently. Brilliant. Great.

And it didn’t help that they were rooted in a more grassy area with more vegetation to burn. 

He knew they both barely had any energy to go on, but… they had to leave. 

**_NOW._ **

Lest they wanted to be burned to fine crisp. There was no time to waste.

“Y’know what pal, that’s a sound idea! Y-you go on n’ find Moe!”

 

Cagney groaned, coughing as well. Just great. Now they really needed to get going. But Carrie couldn’t move on his own and Cagney couldn’t carry him anymore. Finding Moe seemed like the best solution.

“I’ll be back as quick as I can,” He gasped, getting up. He didn’t admit to Carrie that he felt dizzy. He would shoulder through this and make sure the carrot got out of this alive.

So off he went. As fast as his legs could take him.


	6. Moe to the Rescue

Moe had searched every nook and cranny, asked every one of their neighbors, and still no sign of their youngest. Moe was considering going back home to the farm, when he was stopped by a heaving and bedraggled Cagney.   
  


Cagney wasn’t sure how long it took for him to find the potato, but at least he wasn’t hard to spot. Struggling to get in full breaths, he skidded to a halt in front of Moe.

“Carnation! What on earth happened to ya?”

And… why did he smell singed?

“Upchuck, thank… I found ‘im. Found. Carrie. He’s–Fire. We need to–”

Cagney tried to get coherent sentences out, but the exhaustion from before was taking its toll. He felt dizzy. Exhausted. All the running, the lifting Carrie, the breathing in smoke… He couldn’t go on any longer.

Cagney just barely managed to point in the direction of the faint smoke plume before falling over. His breath, previously haggard wheezing, went shallow and slow. He was out cold. It was up to Moe to help them now.

Moe’s expression had lifted when he heard the flower mention that he’d found Carrie, but that all changed when he started babbling something about a fire. It lacked any clarity for the tater’s simple mind to fully comprehend, until a breeze blew by, picking up the scent of burning grass in the distance.

Then he turned he head to the direction that the flower was point at. It was faint, but Moe could see plumes of smoke rising from a meadow not too far away from where he was.

“Carnation, is that-- ”

But before he could even finish asking, Cagney had already fallen over, exhausted.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, back at the meadow, the flames had caught on quick. Critters of every kind were fleeing their homes in droves, unlike Carrie, who was helplessly stuck on the ground.

_ What was taking Cagney so long? _

He tried his best to remain calm, but then his composure collapsed immediately as he felt the blaze’s intense heat upon his back. Now he was starting to panic. As immobile as he was in his current state, he tried to scramble away to safety, quickly dragging himself across the ground. 

But then he eventually ran out of strength to carry himself, and he fell back down, gasping for air. 

This was it. 

He was only just a minute away from his end, this is how he dies.

He braced himself, shrinking in fear of what’s to come, shutting his eyes tightly close until…

 

He felt something or someone lift him off the ground.

Carrie blinked his eyes open.

Even through the thick billows of smoke and intense light the flames around him produced, he could still make out the familiar figure of his older brother Moe.

“Moe! Golly am I glad to see you! How’d--“

“Save the questions for later! Right now we gotta get ya outta here!”

And so he proceeded to burrow under the ground, carrying the carrot with him to safety.

 

Cagney drifted between consciousness and darkness. He vaguely felt somebody picking him up at some point, then muffled voices, but he was too tired to discern anything from them.

The last thing he remembered before going under completely was the smell of smoke once more.

 

* * *

 

When Cagney opened his eyes again, he found himself in bright daylight. The sudden shine made him recoil a bit, blinking rapidly to clear the tears, but his eyes were quick to adjust.

Recollecting himself, he looked around, not too sure of his surroundings. Was he… Back on the farm? He was rooted in the shade of one of the trees, debris and rocks visibly moved so he could have some space. Somebody had taken great care to plant him there. Could it have been Moe had–

When his thoughts drifted to the potato, he went rigid. Where was Moe, anyway? Where was Carrie?

“HEY!” Cagney called, looking around. “HEY, ANYONE THERE? WHAT’S GOING ON? HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN OUT?”

He tried to pull himself out of the ground, but groaned a bit. Even if he had been able to sleep, his body was still a wreck. Could plants even get sore muscles? Regardless, every part of him ached from running around all that time.

All he could do was look around frantically as he waited to see who would respond. 

 

“Three days.” A familiar voice responded calmly.

It was Weepy, who was busy plucking out some weeds nearby. He gave the flower a warm smile.

“Morning, Carnation. How’d you sleep?”

So Cagney wasn’t alone in the farm. But Carrie was nowhere to been seen. 

“If you’re worried about Psycarrot, don’t be. He’s safe. We just decided ta plant ‘im somewhere else on the farm.”

Weepy pointed at a vacant patch of land that barely had anything growing on it. It was far, but if one were to look just little closer, he’d see a large speck of orange in the distance poking out of a thick mass of green, stringy vines.

Three days? Geez, Cagney must have been more worn out than he thought. Well, at least he had been in the care of people who knew what they were doing. Had he been left alone, he’d probably be dehydrated as all hell right about now.

He shot Weepy a sour look, still not over what the onion had suggested with the weedkiller. Looks like it would be a while before Weepy would be able to regain his trust–not that he had had a whole lot to begin with.

“Woke up sore as hell, but I’ll manage,” He grumbled, not maintaining eye contact for very long.

 

The second Weepy indicated the sparse patch, Cagney got up, ignoring his pain-wracked body. He didn’t care about how he was feeling. He just wanted to make sure Carrie was okay.

“Beta?” He mumbled, once he was near the orange shape. “Y’doin’ okay?” 

Carrie was face down on the ground when he stepped into the empty patch. He lifted his head from the soil, however, when he heard Cagney call out his name.

“Drained and singed,” he replied, “but otherwise? I’m all Jake.”

It was nice of him to drop by for a visit, even though he shouldn’t. He could see how pained Cagney’s movements were   all sore and tired from all that running and lifting. 

But at least he had company, which was twofold times better than having none. He wouldn’t think that Weepy and Moe would want to be anywhere near him with these dodders on him. They were infectious.

“And how ‘bout you? I know you shouldn’t be walkin’ around just yet.”

“I survived a fire and one of the first things I did was try to punch yer lights out,” Cagney scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You think a little soreness is gonna stop me?”

He also didn’t want to be in Weepy’s company for longer than necessary, but he figured it wasn’t the best idea to admit that to Carrie.

“Nah, but everyone’s got their limits now, ain’t they?” Carrie asked.

Cagney supposed Carrie had a point, but as usual, he didn’t give much concern for his own limits.

“Anyway, it’s good t’ hear yer doin’ alright. I’m sure Upchuck n’ Sniffles will do what they can fer ya.”

Speaking of which…

“‘Ey, since I’ve been out for a while, I gotta ask… You haven’t told ‘em what I said durin’ the fire, have you?” Cagney asked.

He really didn’t want word of his history going around, for various reasons. The main one was that he didn’t want people bothering him more than usual. He was fine on his own. He didn’t need sympathy.

“‘Cause if you haven’t… I’d like to keep it that way.”

Carrie shook his head slowly. 

“Not a word.” He answered, much to the relief of Cagney.

He was out just as Cagney had been when they were brought back to the farm. Drained from all those dodders and all. Besides, it wasn’t really in his rights to violet the flower’s privacy like that.

 

“Say, uh… you don’t mind stayin’ here for a while n’ keepin’ me company, right?” Carrie asked.

Both his brothers were busy with work, so… for most of the day he had no one to talk to. And with these vines keeping him from moving, he had nothing much to do. Nothing, other than just staying in empty patch dirt ‘til the dodders clear out.

If they even clear out.

Oh, and stare at this stack of neatly piled rocks nearby. Why were they even neatly stacked up anyways? Was it a tiny shrine erected for the rock gods? Rock decor? 

 

“Yeah, and there’s that. I neva really understood what was so special ‘bout it though. I say ‘special’ ‘cause one time I knocked it down by accident n’ my brothers went bananas ova it. ‘Specially Weepy. Weird, ain’t it?” Carrie commented, gesturing to the rocks.

“O’ course I’ll stick around. Probably should take some time to rest, come t’ think of it. Don’t wanna pass out again, yanno? What better way to spend it by making sure a friend doesn’t die of boredom?” Cagney said, managing a bit of a grin. Damn, even his face was sore.

Okay, he probably could have chosen better words than ‘die,’ but still.

But when Psycarrot began to talk about the small pile of rocks, his grin dropped, and he adopted a strange expression. Was that… Fear in his eyes?

He knew exactly what the pile of rocks meant, and couldn’t help but hiss as he recalled what Weepy had said.

_ ‘This ain’t the first time we’ve lost someone t’ dodders’ _

Psycarrot being here, in the empty field, near what was clearly a memorial to that first loss… Everything screamed that the other two didn’t have a lot of hope for the carrot.

“Y-Yeah, pretty weird…” He managed, trying to grin again. He hoped Carrie hadn’t noticed his period of discomfort. It was better he didn’t know.

Carrie, however, never noticed the dread in Cagney’s eyes. This whole time he had his attention fixated on the the peculiar pile of rocks. He never really got why his brothers were so protective about it. Unless…

“Say, think it might be a memorial? I mean think about it. Nobody puts garden decor in a garden that barely has anything growin’ in it.”

It seemed strange to have placed garden decor in an empty patch of land. If it were anything like most of the patches around their farm that had crops growing on them, then it would be understandable. 

But this one wasn’t. It was out of place. They weren’t religious either, so… it had to mean something else.

“Whaddya think, Carnation?” Carrie asked as he turned to face him.

“Hell if I know,” Cagney said, avoiding Carrie’s gaze. “You should probably ask your brothers, huh? They’d know a lot more than I would.”

Cagney had a point. Assuming that it was Carrie’s brothers who planted that memorial, but if they did then… who was it for?

As Cagney finished speaking, his eyes suddenly felt heavy. How was he tired again? He’d been out for three days straight. 

 

“Hey, I think I’m gonna pass out again, so I’ll go tell Sniffles what’s up, alright?” The flower groaned.

“Yeah, you go do that.” Carrie said. To be honest Cagney shouldn’t even be walking around too much, but who is he to tell him what to do? He’s Cagney for roots sake! He does what he wants.

 

Cagney then got up, carrying his aching and stiff body over to the onion. He didn’t look too happy, but it was pretty hard to discern the exact reason why.

“I’m only gonna be a thorn in your sides for a few more days, but uh,” Cagney gestured to the field where Carrie and the pile of rocks lay. “I’m assumin’ that’s whatever remains of that first dodder incident, huh… Carrie seems curious about it. I said you an’ Upchuck would probably be the better ones to ask about that.”

There was a pause after mentioning the potato.

“Also, not that it’s any o’ my business, but has Upchuck been doing alright since… You know… He’s prolly working, but I didn’t see him around, so…”

“Oh, we don’t mind Cagney! Feel free to stay as long you want. ‘Til we can get ya up and runnin’ again.” Weepy said gently.

The onion’s smile turned into a frown at the mention of the pile of rocks. It’s been years since she passed, but talking about her until now still… stung. 

“I…” 

He seemed to choke up. And were those tears in his eyes?

“I don’t wanna talk about it…”

Cagney asking about Moe gave Weepy an opportunity– a moment to clear his mind off the first dodder incident and a chance to wipe away the tears that were forming in his yes.

“Moe’s fine.” He paused. “Well, mostly fine. He got burned trying to save you’s two. Now that I think about it, I think it was a pretty bad burn too… He shouldn’t be out workin’ on the field, but… he said he was fine, so…”

The flower rolled his eyes at Weepy’s apparent distress concerning the memorial. Well, Carrie is gonna look to you for answers, so either get over it or ask Moe to do it! He wanted to growl.

But then Weepy answered his question about Moe.

Wait, really? Great, somebody else got hurt because of his damn mistake. He wasn’t exactly chums with Moe, but…

“Then tell ‘im I apologize,” Cagney grumbled, shrinking into his shoulders. “If I hadn’t started that fire, he wouldn’t’ve gotten hurt.”

He probably would have tried to meet Moe in person to say it, but his exhaustion was bad enough. No sense in straining himself even more. 

Without another word, he made his way back to the spot where he had woken up. Carefully replanting himself and curling up on the ground, it only took a few moments for him to go back to sleep. Hopefully this time it wouldn’t be for more than a day.

“I’ll be sure to tell ‘im.” Weepy called after the flower.

 

With that said, Weepy returned to his work of pulling out weeds from the patch. It was quiet the whole day. With no troublemaking younger sibling going around the rest of Isle One and scamming unsuspecting folks, the whole farm was just dead silent.

The lack of any hullabaloo might have done the flower some good, considering he was trying to sleep, but for the brothers… the stillness was unnerving.

They tried to strike up a conversation with each other to ease the tense atmosphere that had completely blanketed the farm, but no topics came to either mind.

So they worked the whole day off, until later that evening where they dropped by the empty patch to check on Psycarrot just before burrowing in for the night.


	7. Traitor

As the brothers worked, Cagney managed to sleep soundly once more. His rest was much less deep, so he was actually able to dream this time around.

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean the dream was very happy.

 

_ Fire. Why did it have to be  _ **_fire_ ** _? The smoke filled the air, making it hard to breathe. The flames were everywhere. There was nowhere to go. _

_ While Cagney coughed and struggled to find an escape, a bone-chilling laugh echoed. He tried to find the source of it, but was only met with the flames. He didn’t need to look to know who it was, though.  _

_ It was the same cackle the Devil gave five years ago. Back when he had first made his deal. _

**_“Stop–!”_ **

 

Suddenly, everything was gone. He could breathe. He was back on the farm. The chill of the night reached him, and he slowly calmed down. He was fine. He was safe.

That is, until he heard something behind him.

_ “WHO’S THERE?! _ ” He snarled, rising up. The thorns on his stem and arms extended, creating a fierce-looking display. The swift movement sent another ripple of aches across him, but he didn’t care. He was in fight mode now.

 

It was dark, but one could make out the familiar shape of Weepy shuffling about on the field. What was he doing up so late? He was just passing by when the flower suddenly sprung up, making him jump and nearly dropping whatever was in his hands as he fumbled to catch it, which, he did. 

The onion sighed. That was close. 

“W-woah, easy there, Carnation! You nearly made me drop it.” Weepy chuckled nervously.

It? Just what exactly was he holding?

If one were to strain their eyes, then they would see that he was holding a bottle. A sickly green bottle. The contents? No one knows, and the darkness masked whatever words were written on it, but labelled on its front was a huge skull with crossbones on it.

Cagney had to blink the sleep from his eyes, but when he realized what Weepy was holding, he tensed up, his thorns lengthening slightly. He recognized it. It was the bottle of weedkiller from earlier.

“The hell are you doing with that?” He growled, glaring at the onion. 

He didn’t need to ask, though. He knew right away what Weepy was going to do. Had to wait until everyone was sleep to do it, huh? Coward. 

 

_ Ugly, scared, pathetic  _ **_COWARD._ **

 

“You take one step toward Carrie and I won’t hesitate to shoot a thorn into yer eye, Sniffles.” His tone was grave. Serious. He was not above attacking Weepy if it meant protecting Carrie.

“Oh, this?” Weepy said, raising the bottle up slightly. There was no mistaking it   it was the same bottle of potent weedkiller that Weepy had suggested days ago. “I was gonna put back in the shed. Can’t have somethin’ dangerous like this sittin’ around the field. Someone could get hurt!”

Cagney’s sharp tone made him flinch. He moved back, putting his hands up defensively

“H-hey, what’s with the sudden hostility, Carnation?”

He didn’t quite understand at first, but as he recalled what had happened a few day back, he felt… guilty. Not that he was about to do something rash, no, but that he’d suggest something so extreme as using the weedkiller. He frowned.

“I-I’m sorry… it’s just that I assumed that you hated Carrie, that I…” 

Oh man, he felt really bad about this.

“You did nearly stab his eye out that day, so… oh Cagney, you know I’d neva have the heart to hurt my own little brother. I’m too soft for that…”

 

“Too soft to do it while he’s awake, maybe!” Cagney snapped back, moving closer to Weepy.

“What– no!” The onion shrunk away from Cagney as he advanced on him.

“You must have  _ real  _ rotten insides to try somethin’ like this. Guess all that cryin’ is some sorta trick, huh? Tougher than you look?” Cagney was too angry to see reason. He was dead-set on pinning this on Weepy.

“So you WHAT? Assumed I was just gonna sit idly by while you turn on your own damn brother? NO! I’M NOT GONNA LET THAT HAPPEN.”

Cagney reached out and grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the bottle. He leaned in, close enough so that his nose was almost poking Weepy’s.

“You got about ten seconds to convince me otherwise, and  _ oh boy _ , it’d better be good.”

 

“No, no, no! I–!” Weepy was then abruptly cut off by the flower as caught him on his wrist, and leaned in close, their noses almost touching. 

He swallowed hard. What else was there to explain? He just wanted to return the bottle of weedkiller to the shed. But if he had to, then…

Weepy mustered up the courage to speak, albeit visibly scared, that was he shaking in fear of what’s to come if he didn’t, but his words came out as a pathetic, and terrified squeak. No words came out after that. 

Way to use those precious ten seconds, you dope. 

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” The flower snarled coldly.

 

Not giving Weepy a chance to respond, Cagney roared, shoving the large onion with all his might. Even with sore muscles and a wiry frame, the rest he had gotten did help him regain some strength.

While larger and heavier than Cagney, the shove from him was almost enough to knock Weepy out of the soil. He would have toppled him over had it not been for the convenient presence of a nearby tree, which he now had his back pressed against as he looked at the flower with terror in his eyes.

And then Cagney’s rage peaked.

“COWARD!  _ WEED! BASTARD!  _ **_TRAITOR!”_ **

With every insult he screamed, he sent a small spray of thorns in Weepy’s direction. He was moving too wildly and it was too dark to really take direct aim, but he didn’t care. His paranoia was at its peak, and he was too convinced that Weepy was up to something.

Weepy was lucky that Carnation couldn’t take any direct aim at him as he was paralyzed in fear and could only cover his eyes, but the flower hadn’t left him unscathed. The onion was covered in small cuts, and some of his sensitive skin had been visibly peeled off in tiny strips.

Cagney then paused in his assault, clutching at his head and breathing heavily. 

“Just admit it already,” He growled.

But even when the flurry of thorns stopped, Weepy still had his hands over his eyes. He was shaking. Terribly shaking. The poor onion was too scared to even look at Cagney. So scared    that he begun to cry. As they rolled off his cheeks, his tears landed on the ground with a loud ‘hiss’. 

“I-I already, t-t-told you, Ca-Cagney… I’d neva do somethin’ like that t’ my baby b-brother…” He said through sobs, though never removing his his hands from his eyes.

“THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU WERE SAYIN’ BACK WHEN I TOLD YOU HE HAD DODDERS!” 

Cagney’s scream reached new levels of volume. He didn’t care about potentially waking up the others. He was livid.

Unable to control himself anymore, he summoned a large vine from the ground. Weepy should probably be glad it didn’t have any thorns. The flower was too tired to include them.

 

With another roar, he sent the vine flying, fully intending to strike the onion and send him rolling.

* * *

 

Moe awoke with a sudden start as loud screaming pierced his ears. Who or what in hell’s name could be making such a ruckus at this hour? Well, whatever or whoever it was had a lot of nerves to be doing so.

“Damn wild animals breakin’ into our farm…” He grumbled, groggily rubbing his eyes and pulling himself out of the soil as shuffled towards the source of the noise.

 

* * *

 

But the vine did more than just send him tumbling. As he was smacked aside by the vine, he was sent him flying a short distance, skidding across the ground, and then rolling off into a vegetable patch.

Having been unable to brace himself, the pain that now racked his entire body, seemed to hurt twofold. He wanted to shout for help, but even he was too scared to do that. So in this pathetic and woeful state that he was now in, all he simply did was hug himself and weep.

Just weep. 

He tightly shut his eyes and curled up, steeling himself for yet another wave of pain. Because Cagney didn’t look like he was planning on stopping anytime soon.

 

“WELL? AREN’T YOU GONNA DO ANYTHING? OR ARE YOU PATHETIC IN THAT REGARD, TOO?”

Cagney stomped over to the onion, trembling and clenching his fists. He would have loved to strike again, but he was just.  _ Too.  _ **_Angry._ **

Weepy didn’t need to open his eyes to see the murderous intent in Cagney’s. He could already tell by just the tone of his voice that he wanted him gone.

Perhaps he deserved it. No, he definitely deserved it. Was this the price of having very too little to contribute to the farm or was it for being terrible brother? 

Probably both.

And once again, the scraps on Cagney’s head began to spark. Rather than leave embers, however, they erupted into flames resembling petals. Their burn was steady, which was good news for the farm, but it was also very weak compared to the previous times this had happened.

_ “I should just turn you into cinders, right here and now–” _

Cagney groaned, interrupting himself. As quick as they had started up, the flames sputtered, extinguishing with a loud hiss.

He doubled over, the act of lighting his petals knocking the wind out of him. 

 

Weepy curled up further as he felt heat as hot a kindling flame radiating from the flower, but as seconds passed, nothing seemed to happen. Curious, Weepy blinked one eye open, and saw the flower hunched over.

Cagney took several seconds to catch his breath, but once he did, he simply fixed Weepy with another cold glare.

“Whatever. I don’t need flames to deal with a rotten veggie.”

And up sprouted another vine, lashing for Weepy, though much slower than the previous.

Again, he shut his eyes, looking away. But just as the vine was a meter away from colliding with the onion, a giant ball of dirt was suddenly shot at Cagney forcefully.

 

**_“OOF–!”_ **

Struck by the dirt, Cagney was sent flying. He slammed into part of the fence a few meters away, and the vine that had been heading for Weepy dropped to the ground.

Hitting the wood stunned the flower for a moment, but when he rose again, he locked eyes with the new arrival.

“You shoulda stayed outta this, Upchuck.” He said, his tone much different than usual. It was almost… feral.

As much of a front as he put up, he was close to collapsing again. Had he had bones, hitting the fence probably would have broken a few. It took every once of his energy to just stand up and scowl at the potato.

“Stay out? You jus’ nearly beat the life outta my brother, and you expect me to keep my nose out of it?!” Moe growled. He stood a few meters away, looking just a bit out of breath from rushing into the scene.

He tightly clenched his hands into fists. If it weren’t for the flower’s somewhat’s wretched state, he would have thrown him out of the farm no sooner, but he couldn’t; they had to keep him here until he could recover. Maybe even longer after just hitting the fence that hard.

Moe reached up to pinch his forehead, letting out an irritated sigh. He was mad, sure, but he couldn’t let his short temper get to him. Not now.

 

As Moe went over to help his brother up, he slightly cringed at the injuries he’d sustained from the beating. Small cuts, peeled strips of skin, bruises… and he thought Kettle’s boys were bad. He’d have to get that patched up later. But for now, he wanted answers.

“What exactly happened between you and Weepy, Carnation? I know you’re the type to pick scraps, but you just nearly killed my brother.”

Weepy had to lean against his brother to keep him from keeling over. He was shaking still, and held onto Moe’s arm as if his life depended on it. Poor Weepy.

Cagney didn’t answer right away. He was still too steamed. He glanced between the two brothers, fixing the pair of them with a cold glare.

“He was sneakin’ around with a bottle of weedkiller. Was gonna off Carrie while we were all asleep, like some snake–Not that yer gonna believe that.”

The flower lost his footing a bit, grabbing one of the fence rails behind him for support. He wasn’t liking how things were going. Weepy would probably blubber some excuse, and Moe would side with him.

Cagney wasn’t sure what he would do after that.

“But it wouldn’t have been just nearly if you hadn’t shown up. If it were up to me, you’d have a diced onion on yer hands at this point.”

 

Weepy tightened his grip on the potato’s arm and hid behind him like some scared child. So he did try to kill him after all.

A part of Moe believed Cagney and yet– a part of him didn’t want to. He never did believe his brother was capable of committing murder, especially on his own kin. He’s known Weepy for years; they’ve pratically grew up together but… had Cagney witnessed a side of their brother that they never knew?

“Is that true, Weepy?” Moe asked as he turned to his brother, doubtful.

Weepy hung his head low in shame.

“It’s… it’s true. I did suggest the use of weedkiller days back, b-but… I’d neva turn on my brother.”

He’d rather be turned into onion soup than do treason on his own family, but Moe wasn’t too sure about that. They’ll… need to have a talk about this later.

“Well Carnation, you’d be suprised t’ know I don’t trust that statement a hundred percent, but you that doesn’t put you in the right t’ have nearly beaten my brother to death.” Moe saidly carefully.

Well, wasn’t that nice? But it didn’t really soothe Cagney very much.

“Whatever. But you know–” He started, but stopped when he felt something trickle from his nose. Great, it was bleeding. A latent reaction from hitting the fence, probably.

As he wiped away some of the green blood, he looked around. They were probably going to make him stay longer now, but he didn’t want to spend another second around Weepy. He hoped the onion felt the same way about him.

“I’m out of here. Had enough of this place. But I suggest you keep an eye on that brother of yours, dammit.” He spat, pinching his nose.

He clambered over the fence, not really caring how much it hurt or how ungraceful he looked. He wasn’t really leaving for good–he’d probably sneak back now and then to check on Carrie–but for now he just needed to leave.

And so, off he stomped into the darkness, holding his bleeding face and not bothering to look back at the pair of vegetables.

 

Moe watched Cagney leave and didn’t turn to his brother until the flower was out of sight. 

“…Really, Oscar? Weedkiller?” He asked.

Weepy turned away from him, his face flushed in shame. He twiddled his fingers nervously, starring only at the ground.

“I-I… I didn’t want ‘im going through what she had t’ endure…” 

He didn’t even need to say her name. Moe knew exactly who Weepy was referring to, but… was there a need for something that drastic? From their experiences they knew dodders were incurable, but wasn’t it too soon?

Who knows, maybe by some unexpected miracle, their brother might have some hope. Emphasis on ‘might’. 

“I know, I know,” Moe said with sigh, giving his brother a pat on the back, “but this is… this ain’t like you, Oscar.”

 

“W-wh… whaddya mean?” 

“Cagney said you were gonna off Carrie while we were all sleeping, and it had me thinkin’   ”

“I said I’d never do that!” At that accusation, Weepy suddenly raised his voice and then quickly put a hand on his mouth, surprise at his own outburst.

“I… I’d never do that. Please Moe, you gotta believe me; I jus’ wanted t’ put back the weedkiller in the shed…”

Moe’s only response was a shrug. He was all too tired and sleepy to deal with this. It was late, and at this hour they should all be sleeping. 

“Fine, fine, fine… I believe ya. Look Oscar, I’m beat. Let’s jus’ go t’ bed, and maybe put this all behind us, yeah?”

“…Fine.”

 

Even then, Weepy could tell that his brother wasn’t exactly keen on trusting him. But it hadn’t just been the potato whose trust he had broken tonight--Carrie, while in that empty patch of his, and with his back turned, had been eavesdropping on their conversation.

The commotion from earlier had woke him up, and… he curled up a bit. So he was right. They did want him gone after all. Well, at least one of them.

But knowing that, he wasn’t sure how he was going to get any sleep.


End file.
